The Request
by Limmet
Summary: Prowl learns that asking your bondmate for what you want isn't always the easiest of things. Especially not when the request is of a more unusual nature. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's notes:**__ Due to popular demand (alright, so like two people requested it), for another sub!Prowl story, I put this little fic together. It's just a small one-shot, though. _

_**Warnings:**__ Slashy. Some minor kink as well. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ Transformers doesn't belong to me in any shape or way_.

* * *

Prowl snuggled up against his bondmate's back, an arm draping itself around Jazz's chassis. The same thoughts that had insistently pounded for his attention lately were now again demanding to be noticed. Most often, they would manifest themselves after a bonding session; slowly creeping into his processors and then stubbornly refuse to leave.

This time, things were no different. And Prowl had to admit, that as satisfying as their recent bonding had been, there was just something... _missing_.

And he knew exactly what that little something was. He had been aware of it for a long time, but still felt uncomfortable expressing the thought in words. So uncomfortable that he had yet to bring it up with his bondmate. Not so much out of worry for how Jazz would react, but more out of a general sense of awkwardness.

After all, how _did_ one properly frame a request such as the one he had in mind?

But, he had put this off long enough, futilely hoping for the right words to inspire him, or for the right moment to present itself. There was no point in waiting for something that wasn't forthcoming, so he might as well get it over with.

The tactician gathered his courage before it slipped away from him, and hoped that what he was about to say wouldn't sound too daft.

"So, Jazz, I've been sort of thinking..." he could hear his own voice trailing off in the distance, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant and insecure. So unlike its usual commanding tone.

No, this wouldn't do! Prowl gathered his strength anew, and grabbed hold of the first words that came to him.

"How about we try something a bit... uh, different, next time?" There, he had said it, and even if Jazz wouldn't pick up on the exact intended meaning, he was sure to urge Prowl to elaborate on what he had in mind, meaning there was no return now.

Jazz half on-lined his optics. He had been on the verge of slipping into recharge, but Prowl's voice had rattled him out of it. The saboteur felt too tired to pay much attention to his bondmate's words though, seeing as how he had had quite an exhausting day, with an unexpected Decepticon ambush to top it off. Now all he wanted was some rest.

And Prowl was not by any means an adventurous mech, so whatever he was about to ask for would hardly be anything exciting in the first place. It could wait until tomorrow. Although, he didn't really mind Prowl's predictability, quite the opposite. He had found that he liked having his bondmate as a fixed point in his life, which otherwise had a tendency to lean a bit too much towards the side of impulsiveness and randomness.

"And what could that possibly entail?" the saboteur still couldn't help asking, a teasing quality sneaking into his voice. "Are ya perhaps implyin' that ya want ta try the _left_ side of the rechargin' berth for once? Wow, are ya sure ya're ready for this momentous step in our relationship, Prowler?" A smug look manifested itself on the saboteur's face, as it usually would when he was amused by one of his own little jokes.

Prowl frowned. Apparently, Jazz wasn't in a mood to take his request seriously at all. But now that he had finally mustered up enough confidence to put his thoughts into words, he wasn't about to let things end here.

"No, that's not what I meant," the Second in Command replied, sounding more insistent now. "What I meant was that I would like it if you were to, well... take command a bit more."

Silence.

Then, "Take command? Come on now, Prowl, I'm usually the one who takes the initiative ta our bondin' sessions. Like I did just a couple of hours ago, remember? I'd say that at least four times out of five, it's _me_ who's the drivin' force! But sure, if what ya're sayin' is that ya want ta bond more often, I'm all for it." Jazz's voice drawled a little, as if he was just inches away from going into recharge.

This obviously wasn't going too well. _Guess I have no choice but to spell things out_, Prowl thought, steeling himself.

"No, I meant take control _during_ our bonding sessions, not before them," he said quickly. Surely Jazz had to understand what he was getting at now?

Jazz's optics came fully on-line. Had his bondmate just asked what he thought he had asked? Oh, he had long suspected that Prowl did indeed have certain leanings in this direction, but hearing it expressed in the tactician's own words was really something. A grin spread across his face. Good thing he still had his back turned to his bondmate.

Knowing Prowl, he had probably struggled hard to say this in as prude a way as possible, but the saboteur didn't have any similar qualms. "Oh, so ya're sayin' ya'd actually like ta be _dominated _while we're bondin', Prowl, is that it?" Jazz put deliberate stress on the key word as his grin widened; this was just too funny. He could feel the tactician's body stiffen behind him at the sharp contrast between Jazz's no-nonsense words and the Second in Command's own, more unobtrusive wording.

The saboteur rolled over so he came face to face with his bondmate. "Well, I really need ta have a think about this. One thing I want ta know first –" he made a dramatic pause "– does that mean that I get ta call ya names and stuff? Ya know, like 'stuck-up, un-charismatic tight-aft'"? Jazz's face was beaming with ill repressed amusement. "Or, how about 'loosest little slut-bot this side of Alpha Centauri'?" The saboteur chuckled, clearly pleased with his own ingenuity.

Prowl, however, did not find the matter nearly as amusing. No indeed, if he had been human, his face would have sported a deep shade of red by now. His bondmate wasn't exactly making things easy for him; perhaps he should have known better than to bring this matter up at all.

"So does that mean that we'll be usin' handcuffs and the whole kit?" Jazz asked, finding yet another entertaining angle to the issue. "I'm not sure how we're gonna go about acquiring them though, seein' as how I currently don't happen ta have a whole lot of spare cuffs lyin' around in my quarters..."

He pondered for a short moment. "Well, I think the only solution is ta pick up a pair from the common supply room. Things might get a little awkward when we fill in the necessary paperwork, but otherwise it shouldn't be a problem."

The saboteur was positively beaming with smugness as he continued. "But I'm sure ya wouldn't mind, seein' as how it was _your_ brilliant idea, Prowler, that everyone needed ta fill in that report regardin' intended usage every time we retrieve an item from the supply room." Despite having been halfway into recharge just a moment ago, Jazz was now as awake as ever. The pained look on Prowl's face was too priceless to let go to waste.

"But ya're right, it was the only reasonable action, considerin' all the material that had been disappearin' from our supplies lately," Jazz mused, as he thought back on the highly unpopular decision that Prowl had insisted on. "And I'm sure the report will make for quite an interesting read when we've filled it in."

His voice assumed a solemn, formal tone. "_Line three, intended use_: Key equipment for the mission aimed at makin' our Second in Command's secret fantasies come alive'. Or perhaps, 'Cuffin' the Ark's favorite repressed tactician ta his rechargin' berth.'" Jazz guffawed heartily.

Prowl made a grimace. With his bondmate in this kind of mood, there was no point in any further discussions. Better to drop the whole thing and perhaps bring it up another time when Jazz would manage to take his request more seriously.

"Alright, just forget it!" Prowl said, a bit harsher than he had intended. Really, he had hoped that Jazz would have kept a straighter face than this, but knowing his bondmate, it was probably too tall an order.

"Okay, if ya say so. It's a hilarious suggestion comin' from _ya_ of all 'Bots though, Prowler; considerin' how even the stoic Optimus Prime himself is better at lettin' himself go than ya are," came the retort.

"Good night, Jazz." No, he definitely wasn't going to discuss this any further with his bondmate tonight, seeing as how Jazz had only taken it as an opportunity to make fun of him. The Second in Command off-lined his optics and allowed himself to slowly slip into recharge.

* * *

Next morning, Prowl woke up at exactly the same time as he always did, his well-tuned internal chronometer making sure of that. Well, he should get working on that report he had started yesterday but had never gotten around to finish, since his bondmate had persuaded him to leave it in favour of more amorous activities.

Speaking of Jazz, had he managed to move around in recharge so much that he was now lying atop of his bondmate? There was a heavy weight resting on him, and when Prowl made an effort to move, he found himself strangely unable to.

_Uh?_

He on-lined his optics, unprepared for the sight that greeted him. Jazz was sitting on top of him, straddling his chassis; a grin that stretched from audio sensor to audio sensor plastered across his face. And a fraction of a moment later, Prowl noticed that his hands were cuffed to something above his head.

It was only the Autobot tactician's famous self-control that prevented him from overloading right then and there.

* * *

_**End note:**__ Well, no real point to this story, I guess, but since my previous sub!Prowl fic was pretty high on the kink factor, I wanted to write a more light-hearted piece this time. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's notes:**__ Although this was originally supposed to be a one-shot – well, here's another chapter. _

_**Warnings:**__ Slashy. Some minor kink as well. _

_**Acknowledgements:**__ Thanks to HitokiriKurisuta for beta reading. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ Transformers doesn't belong to me in any shape or way_.

* * *

"Good morning, Prowler." Jazz's voice was brimming with smugness as he looked down at the mech he was straddling.

Prowl, on his hand, found himself at a loss for words; the unexpected, albeit desirable, situation seemed to have robbed him of his vocal capabilities. "But where did you get the..." was all he managed to press forth once the initial shock had faded.

Jazz reached out and placed a finger on his bondmate's lips to silence him. "Let's just say I borrowed them from somewhere. I'll put them back after we're finished, don't ya worry," he told the tactician, not offering any further explanation.

Prowl was on the verge of protesting – after all, one could not simply walk around the Ark _borrowing_ equipment like that – but then thought better of it. Wasn't this the very stuff his secret fantasies had been revolving around for so long? And here his first reaction was to worry about how Jazz had gotten hold of those things... No, that was too deploringly stuck-up even for him.

He let the thought slip away, convincing the more logical part of his processor that this was not the time to be concerned with such matters. Returning his focus to the current situation, a shiver of excitement passed through his frame; after Jazz's dismissive attitude yesterday he had never expected _this _kind of wake-up. He could hear his own breathing speeding up in anticipation of things to come.

Jazz seemed pleased with his bondmate's decision to ask no further question. He stroked the tactician's chassis with an eager hand; slowly tracing the contours of the black and white armour. After a moment, an uncharacteristically hesitant look crossed the saboteur's face.

"So... what do we do now?"

The question was enough to jolt Prowl out of his little world of bliss. Truth be told, the more _exact_ specifics of how his fantasies were supposed to play themselves out weren't something he had given much thought to. And he knew that Jazz's uncertainty was now perfectly mirrored in his own face.

"Uh... I don't know," he mumbled, feeling rather stupid. After all, how _did_ one continue a venture like this? He honestly had no idea.

And by the looks of it, nether did his bondmate. For an awkward moment, the two mechs just stared at each other, each waiting for the other to come up with something. As the befuddled silence dragged on, doubts regarding the merits of this idea were beginning to surface in the tactician's processor. Of course, neither he nor his bondmate had any experience with these games, so what had he been expecting?

Slag it, this wasn't how he had being imagining things! He desperately tried to come up with an idea before the long-awaited moment would go to waste.

"Alright, maybe you could..." he hesitated for a brief moment, "be a little bit, you know... rough. Or something."

Ooh, how silly that sounded. But seriously, what did mechs engaging in games like this actually _do _when it came down to it? Perhaps he should have considered that more carefully before bringing matters up with his bondmate, but his mind had only focused on a single obstacle preventing his dreams from coming true, and that was making Jazz go along with this. So he had convinced himself that once he managed to work up the courage to put forward his wish in a manner persuasive enough, then everything would work out.

Yes, so he had thought. And how wrong he had been. While Jazz's creativity had helped them out of many a tight spot over the years, this situation had even the resourceful saboteur at a loss.

But Jazz nonetheless obliged with the request. A black hand again started to caress the tactician's chassis, this time rather forcefully. It continued along its way towards the edge of his doorwing and then squeezed the delicate metal, hard.

Prowl let out a pained yelp. "Ouch! That _hurt_!"

Jazz quickly withdrew the offending hand, a guilty look in his optics. "Oops, sorry. But I thought ya said..."

The tactician's feelings of embarrassed stupidity were reaching new levels as he replied. "I suppose I did... but my doorwings are too sensitive for that kind of treatment," he weakly explained, just barely managing to quench the grunt of exasperation that threatened to escape his vocalizer. Why couldn't these things just work _smoothly_?

"Alright, won't be doin' it again, Prowler." Jazz gently massaged the spot he had treated so harshly a short moment ago. "Perhaps it's better if I just touch ya, well, more normally instead?" he suggested.

The Second in Command agreed with a nod. Yes, that was probably better. They could leave the more advanced activities for another bonding session. Patiently work their way towards them, whatever they would be. He tried to relax as Jazz's touches started to wander over his chassis again, occasionally digging deeper at the seams to tease the wirings underneath.

He continued, as Prowl simply lay on the berth.

And continued.

Then, after a long moment had passed, "No offense, but this is startin' ta get kinda tedious, with ya bein' handcuffed and all... Now I'm the one stuck doin' all the work here," Jazz said with a lop-sided grin. "But if ya want me ta go on..."

Prowl only sighed. Jazz did have a good point; just lying here, unable to do much of anything was hardly the definition of thrilling.

"No, it's fine, Jazz. You're right – it's not very exciting," he reluctantly admitted, trying not to grit his teeth in frustration.

"So, any other ideas then?" the saboteur asked, one optic ridge raised.

"Uh... not for the moment, no." At this point, Prowl was convinced that this had to be one of his worst ideas ever. He should just stick to battle plans and tactics instead; seeing as how it had been made painfully clear that he lacked any and all competence in games like this.

Not to mention, the cuffs around his wrists were starting to feel awfully tight. He tried to twist his hands to alleviate the pressure, but the wriggling motion didn't help.

Well, perhaps it was time to admit defeat.

"Maybe you'd better remove the cuffs... they're starting to chafe quite a bit. And I can only imagine the questions it would raise if the others 'Bots notice cuff marks around my wrists," Prowl finally said, voice glum.

A grin lit up Jazz's face. "Yeah, couldn't have that, could we? Would probably ruin your reputation as the most up-tight 'Bot in the entire history of Cybertron as sure as anything. But alright, I'll take them off for ya."

Before the words had left his vocalizer, there was a key in Jazz's palm, and the saboteur inserted the little metal piece into the lock of the cuffs. Prowl almost sighed with relief as they came off; those things were _not_ comfortable at all!

For a long moment, the two mechs just lay on the berth together, neither speaking a word. Even Jazz was for once uncharacteristically quiet; an awkward silence hanging over the room.

Then the saboteur started to laugh – a happy, liberating laugh. Prowl gratefully noted that there were no mocking undertones in it, only pure amusement.

"Guess this didn't work out too well, did it?" he grinned.

The laughter was contagious, and Prowl couldn't help but chuckle as well, feeling the awkward atmosphere dissolving.

"No, I guess it didn't," the Second in Command admitted. "But it was worth a try, wasn't it?"

"Sure it was, Prowler. And let me tell ya, I'm pleasantly surprised that ya actually wanted ta try something different for once; here I was gettin' all concerned that moss would soon start ta grow on ya."

Prowl didn't reply, he only snuggled closer against his bondmate, wrapping himself in the welcoming arms, glad they were able to laugh about the utter failure. Well, he had clearly been expecting too much from this. As the old saying went, some fantasies were better off remaining fantasies, and this little exercise had been a most telling example of the truth inherent in that statement.

And in the larger scheme of things, it was a negligible setback. He was still a very lucky mech, having been granted the most wonderful bondmate in the universe; one who had given him a lot more than his fair share of happiness during the years. Expecting even more was preposterous. This silly little fantasy of his was something he should just banish to the deeper parts of his processor and instead be happy with all the things he _did_ have.

Content with that thought, he allowed himself a few more moments to enjoy the closeness of his bondmate, before he reluctantly undid himself from the arms that encircled him.

"Sorry, but I still have yesterday's report to finish, so I need to get going." Prowl stood up, stroking the other mech gently across the cheek. "See you later tonight."

Jazz smiled. "See ya, Prowler."

With that, Prowl exited the room and left for his office, his mind already fully focused on the next paragraph he was about to write in his report.

* * *

It was late in the evening when Prowl finally returned from his duties. Jazz was, as usual, faithfully waiting for him, scuffling over to make room for his bondmate on the recharging berth.

Prowl stretched out next to the saboteur, enjoying the calming presence of the other mech. Yes, he had indeed been stupid uttering such a request yesterday. What he and Jazz had together was more than enough; more than he had ever dared to hope for before he had met the mech that was now his bondmate. There was no need to make any conceited efforts to make artificial, unrealistic fantasies like that come alive. No, he would be better off simply being grateful and appreciative of everything he did have.

And still...

He looked up and met with his bondmate's optics.

"So, want to try again?"

A mischievous grin was playing on the saboteur's face as he replied.

"Ya bet!"

* * *

_**End note:**__ Well, perhaps this wasn't really what those of you who asked for another chapter had expected or wanted. But Prowl and Jazz's obvious loss at what to actually do in this chapter perfectly reflects my own lack of ideas when considering the requests for a second chapter. Seriously, it's _not_ an easy task coming up with kinky stuff for these two 'Bots to occupy themselves with, particularly not as most of my ideas in that area seem to have already been used up by my previous fics. _

_That being said, I do have some other stuff along similar lines in the works. So for those of you who were disappointed with this chapter, there will be some heavier 'action' in another story later on. Plus at least one more chapter to this story. _


End file.
